


Opia

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Autistic Will Graham, Fuck Alphas man, M/M, Not Beta Read, Omega Hannibal Lecter, Omega Will Graham, Sexism, Unreliable Narrator, i wrote this to vent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-08-14 04:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20186134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Society as a whole always has room for improvement. Lots of room in this case, we're talking rooms upon ROOMS of area for growth. Will Graham is an Omega living in an Alpha run world and has to deal with too much bullshit.





	1. Exulansis

Will surveyed the students seated before him. Most, if not all, were Alpha, obvious in the way they puffed their chests and tried to hold eye contact with him while he spoke. He was long since used to these childish power-plays and did his best not to feed into it, eyes scanning by disinterestedly. 

There were also a few betas sprinkled in, if going by the nods of encouragement that they fed his way. Those were probably profilers or crime scene investigators, nothing that would get them too close to the action. There were no Omegas.

That was to be expected, actually. Will doesn’t think he’s ever seen an omega with a job more laborious than housewife, and even then a Beta nanny was usually called in to help with additional stressors.  _ That  _ was an Omegas job, pop out kid after kid until they were too old for it, then lived out the rest of their life in relative luxury. The thought of it made him a bit nauseous.

It wasn’t as if Will blamed Omegas for how they were treated, if anything he pitied them; Omegas were rare, less than one percent of the population identified as it, making them a little more scarce than redheads; for good reason too; in the late 1800s when the Vatican had first formed they decided that the Omega was to be considered a “lustful abomination,” leading to the first of many Omega purges. It was only a few decades later that people began to think  _ Hey! These are literal people we’re killing! Let’s not do that anymore, ok? _ And since has been swept under the metaphorical rug.

It was only after this that it was discovered that an Omegas fertility rate was much higher than the average Beta womens, and Alpha women were born sterile or had an extremely low childbirth expectation, leading it all into a pointless crusade that ends with several steps  _ backward _ for Omega rights because it’s all to be controlled by knothead Alphas whose only education reguarding the “fairer sex” happens to be a Hallmark movie that came out in nineteen ninety-four.

Will had a  _ lot _ of opinions about Omegas. That’s kind of what happens when you are one.

“Everyone has thought about killing someone, one way or another. Be it your own hand or the hand of God,” several students in the back were ‘whispering’ to one another, giggling, “Now  _ think _ about killing Mrs. Marlow.” They were all Alphas, laughing at something an older student was saying.

“Why did she deserve this, Mister Soto?” The Alpha who was leading court jerked up and the laughter petered out, but the oily smirk on his face remained. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Why’s a ‘mega teaching classes when he should be at home like a normal breeder?” Will mentally rolled his eyes,  _ another one of these assholes _ . 

“Nathan Soto, you are currently  _ barely  _ hanging onto a passing grade in my class despite being at least half a decade older than your peers, you have yet to show me any work that makes me believe that if there’s even a  _ chance _ of you becoming a beneficial agent to the FBI. Your suspect profiling needs more help than even I could give you, not to mention you are dangerously close to being dropped from this program. The next time you wish to discuss your personal life in class I suggest you focus on the material. And with that, class is dismissed. I want you all to tell me why she deserved this, tell me your design. Tell me who you are.

He clicked off the projector and turned away from the red-faced Alpha, welcoming the presence in the room that's been there since the middle of class.

“Mr. Graham.” Will turned towards the Alpha. “Special agent Jack Crawford. I head the Behavioral Science Unit.”

Jack Crawford was a portly black man with a bland smile on his face that would better suit someone in politics. He stuck out his hand, wrist facing upwards in a way that his scent glands would be on display. That was usually how unfamiliar Alphas greeted Omegas. Will was expected to take it into his own and rub his cheek against it, accepting Crawford's greeting. Instead he shook it firmly and turned to pack his things up, essentially deeming him not important enough to register as a threat.

“We’ve met.” Too many times it seems. There was already an irritated vein pulsing on Jack’s forehead. 

“Yes. We had a… disagreement when we opened up the museum.” Will didn’t even need to meet his eyes to know what type of Alpha Jack Crawford was. He disagreed with having Will here, with having  _ any _ Omega where they could get anything more than a papercut, but couldn’t fight it because Will was damn good at his job and knew it.

“I disagreed with what you named it. The, uh Evil Minds Research museum,” he snorted sardonically, “sounds like something Freddie Lounds would write.” The forehead vein throbbed.

“I see you’ve hitched your horse to a teaching post,” Will nodded, “I also understand it’s difficult for you to be… social.” Oh and there it was. Everytime someone brought up Wills  _ behavior  _ and how  _ odd _ it was for an Omega, he just wanted to scream  _ I’m  _ ** _autistic_ ** _ ! I have aspergers! What do you  _ want  _ from me?  _ But that would just lead him to one of those ‘care facilities’ set up for hysteric [Read: having human emotions aside from ‘cheerful’] Omegas.

“Well, I’m just talking at them. I’m not listening to them. It’s not social.”

“That’s not what I saw today.”

“Sometimes exceptions must be made, especially for students who aspire to be part of your team.” He threw in a small smile that he feared looked more sarcastic than anything.”

“I see. May I?” Jack didn’t wait for an answer before reaching up to adjust the others 

glasses. 

Will refused to move from his place even as fingers twitched to slap the offending hand away, which he knew was exactly what Jack wanted him to do; to give him some sort of invitation to gain back control of the conversation and therefore control of Will himself. Not likely. 

“Where do you fall on the spectrum?”

“My horse is hitched to the post of aspergers and autistics rather than narcissists and sociopaths, if that’s what you mean.”

“But you can empathize with narcissists and sociopaths.” He said this as if he’s checkmated Will already.

“I can empathize with anybody. Has less to do with a personality disorder than an active imagination.” As soon as all his stuff was packed up, Will is leaving, polite or no. 

Right as he was pushing the last of his documents into his satchel, Jack leaned deeply forward into the Omega’s space, angled low to make him meet his eyes. It also put him at a deferential position, his head tilted up in a way that makes his neck vulnerable to attack, so Will decided he might as well hear him out. If he didn’t like what he said then he was at an advantage point and could always leave.

“Can I uh,” he looked as if it was painful to push the words out and Will held back a smile, “borrow your imagination?”

“Eight girls abducted from eight different Minnesota campuses,” Jack walked an unconscious half foot in front of Will, his legs forced to step doubletime in order to keep up, “all in the last eight months.” 

“I thought there were seven.”

“There were.” Jack agreed

“When did you tag the eighth?”

“About three minutes before I walked into the lecture hall.” There was a line of sweat pooling in one of the pockmarks on his face that trailed thinly to his temple, it was easier to look at then Jack himself. 

“You’re calling them abductions cause’ you don’t have any bodies? That’s only gonna work for so long Jack.”

“This isn’t about hiding it from the public, we haven’t gotten  _ anything _ back. No bodies, no parts of bodies, nothing that comes out of bodies. Nothing.” They couldn’t find anything, that’s not surprising, but what  _ was _ , was that the public hasn’t come forward with anything, which is what you’d expect from mouthy college students, that only left-

“Then those girls weren’t taken from where you think they were taken.” 


	2. Kuebiko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is tasked with seeing into a dangerous killer looking for his golden ticket, Winston is also there.

The whole time the two were walking together, Will couldn’t help but feel as he was being paraded across the campus. Every few meters Jack would subtly correct Will with light hands on his shoulders and sides until he felt like the sacrificial goat being corralled into his pen, this not being helped by the fact that the two were getting not-so-subtle looks shot their way every few feet. They varied from admiration and awe (to Jack) to condescending  _ hunger _ (unfortunately to him). The on-campus crime analytics lab wasn’t the high tech atmosphere that you’d expect from such a large campus, but fit their needs well enough. There was a small office off of one of the main rooms and it was obviously dedicated to finding the (remains of) the lost college girls. 

All the photos were connected with a fuzzy red string with points of evidence pinned on cork board and it left the impression that whoever set this up was a conspiracy theorist on the side, and a bad one at that. None of the connecting evidence points made any  _ sense _ . Their clothes didn’t matter at all, neither did what locations they visited beforehand, but what really caught Will’s attention was the girls features. All eight of them had the same  _ look _ to them, very mall of America. All of them were from different castes, only one of them was an Omega so it wasn’t about power.

“He knows someone who looks like the other girls. She won’t be one of the victims, but she’s the one who he really wants. She’s his golden ticket. Look for older paternal figures, someone who’s daughter is around college age, she’s leaving and this is his way of coping with empty nest syndrome.” 

“That sounds a little-” Will cut him off before he could say anything,

“All i’m doing is interpreting the evidence. Just because you couldn’t make the connection doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” He’d be lying if he said that the way Jack puffed up in response didn’t make him feel a little better.

“Even so, I can’t just present a profile and say my reasoning ‘it just makes sense.’ Do you see my problem Will? Now give me a good reason why this bastard’s targeting these girls. ” He didn’t bother to hide his eye roll.

“It’s not  _ about _ the girls”

“As far as I’m concerned it is. This is your job here and there are certain…  _ expectations _ made about you . You make jumps you don’t explain, help me find some evidence.”

-

The Nichols house was uninspired in a way that most suburban are, two stories and a wide kitchen that currently housed a nervous looking couple; Mr. Nichols was pacing nervously, stopping every once and a while to console his wife that insisted on being there even as it clearly made her uncomfortable. They were both betas, and therefore didn’t have the senses needed to sniff out the fact that Will wasn’t one of them, which suited him just fine.

The report mentioned that Elise had originally come over to watch the cat, there was a half-full bowl in the corner next to a large cat scratcher so he assumed that the pet stayed indoors, but where was it? 

“How’s the cat?”

“Huh?” Mr. Nichols voice was scratchy from disuse’  
“How’s your cat? Elise was supposed to feed it. Was the cat weird when you came home? It didn’t eat all weekend. Must’ve been hungry…” He trailed off.

“I didn’t notice.” Which meant —

-

The body was preserved beautifully, not a visible scratch or scar touched its skin. He gently ran his hand through his loves hair, relishing the fact that there was no way for it to reject the touch; suddenly he bears down on the sleeping chest, hearing the ribs crack and before the waking body has any chance to retaliate he circles the pale throat in his fingers and squeezes, hard and solid. It was sudden, and terrible, and violent. She struggles underneath his palms, her face turning a deeper shade of red with each second that passes, but he refuses to let up. Tears and snot roll down the girls face until it puddles in the web of his thumb and still he doesn’t let go, the bed board snaps with a crack and he hears the sound of a camera shutter, wait —

“You’re Will Graham.” Will is snapped back into his own consciousness, unsure of how long that he’d been gone,

“You’re not supposed to be here.” The Alpha holding the camera take another second to snap a picture of Elise and Will has to strain not to cover the corpses body with his own. A part of the killer was still lodged inside of him and he struggled to keep the thoughts in his head as his own. 

“You wrote the standard monograph on time of death by insect activity. I was surprised at how impressive it was considering…” She stopped before she could finish but Will knew what she was going to say, it probably wasn’t even on purpose but that almost made it worse. He narrowed his eyes at her but before anything could come of it, Jack bursts into the room with convenient time and usual self-importance.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” He spoke with an authority that made Will want to bare his teeth, even though he wasn’t the subject of Crawford’s wrath; The agent—Beverly— subtly submitted to Jack and told him about the antler velvet left in the wounds. Already he was frustrated with his supposed coworker, she hadn’t even  _ mentioned _ the piece of evidence that totally changed his perspective on what happened. It was like a puzzle piece popped into place and he could see a little more of the full picture,

“Antler velvet is rich in nutrients. It actually promotes healing. He may have put it there on purpose.” Both Alphas turned towards him in incredulous skepticism.

“You think he wanted to heal her?” 

“He was trying to undo as much as he could, given he already killed her. Whatever he did to the others, he couldn’t do it to her. No. This is an apology.” His breath caught, voice heavy with guilt.

  
  


Will’s eyes were so heavy. He had both hands resting on the wheel, less to steer and more because he just needed somewhere to prop them. It was just… tiring being like this, being an Omega. No one took him seriously, making have to work a thousand times harder just to be acknowledged for something any mediocre Alpha would’ve gotten accolades for; worse still, he was expected to  _ belong _ to one of them, as if despite the treatment he’s received from these assholes he was still just a toy that anyone could have access- provided they had enough money.

Feeling the bright flame of righteousness erupt deep in his chest, Will turned back to face the road just in time to swerve away from a dog walking in the middle of it. His tires squealing at the sudden breaking and he snapped his wheel to the other side, his head smashing into the glass of the window. He stumbled out of his car and tried to stand even as black spots invaded his vision, but he had to see if the dog was okay. 

Will staggered down the road until he crept up on the mutt standing now well away from the street. It appeared okay, not whimpering or limping but as he crept closer to them, they ran a few feet away, barking lightly.

Will turned around and headed for the car, getting in and driving off. 

The dog whined, but remained on the dirt path, walking up and down the road before plopping down to rest his eyes. A good forty-five minutes pass before he sees anything and when he does, notices that its the same car from earlier. It parks a little ways away and a man comes out, holding something that smelled delicious. He crept closer to the dog and tossed him bits of sausage that were still steaming with grease and he gobbled it up greedily, walking forward with an eagerness for more. Eventually, the dog climbs into a back seat and Will leaves him with the rest of the convenience store hotdogs that he went to grab. The night shift employees knew him well enough, either from his need of constant supply of dog luring treats or insomnia fueled junk food binges at three am.

He got to work washing the dog in a warm lather that slowly revealed the dogs coat as more than a dirty brown and gently cut the mats off his fur, carefully trimming his claws and drying him off with a towel he’d thrown in the dryer beforehand.

Despite being almost too tired to function, he padded an old crate with blankets and loaded the dog in. Will turned toward the bedroom door and opened it, his kings court streaming in. They all sat down a few feet away from the cage, sniffing the air in search of the odd scent. Will pulled back the light fabric he’d rested on the cage and introduced the new family member,

“Winston. This is everybody. Everybody. This is Winston.” One of his more feisty midgets starts to growl, Will shoots him a look and he sits back down, “That’s right.”

Eventually he has to get to sleep, so he moves Winston to the corner of the room that housed all the dog beds and let him settle while the rest of the pack cocooned their way around the crate. Will popped another aspirin, setting another on his bedside and curled up under the covers.

-

He feels like he was sleeping but it’s difficult to tell. There was an odd fuzziness in his head that wouldn’t go away and no matter how hard he tried, his eyes wouldn’t open. Sleep paralysis was no stranger to Will, but it was still a bit unsettling to find oneself unable to move. He slowly moved his fingers and to his relief, was able to achieve this action; next he stretched his wrist, and slowly extended his arm, but found himself confused to hit what felt like an arm.

Will’s eyes snapped open.

Elise Nichols lays across from him, still and unblinking at the ceiling. She wore her nightgown that Will had first seen her in, it’s color reflecting the light of the moon and briefly blinding him. 

“Oh.”

He reaches out to touch her, to see if the skin of it feels as cold as it looks, but before he can its body seems to raise itself in the air, red flowers falling from the hands rested on her stomach. It’s only when her arms fall to her sides that he realized that they aren’t flowers at all, but blood seeping its way from the puncture marks made by black antlers, rearranging her body into an offering to the darkness.

Will wakes up a gasping mess, tears blurring his vision and making him thrash because it reminds him too much of the dream. Sweat is dripping down his face and it burns where he slammed his head into the windshield, apparently haven gotten cut. He rolls out of bed and into the bathroom where he strips himself, shirt and boxers making a wet  _ slap _ as they land in the tub. He doesn’t bother turning on a light and blindly gropes for a towel and fresh clothes, wiping himself down before changing into the new pair.

As he heaves himself back into bed and pulls only the thinnest sheet back over him, Will takes a deep sigh and prays to an unanswering god for sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thanks for waiting! i got a couple of really sweet comments on my last chapter and really that's the only thing that keeps me going. the validation. ANyway i'm not completely sure where i'm going with this but it seems to be working so far so lets keep on going. as always I appreciate comments more than kudos and i want to know your guys' opinion, hope you enjoy <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this fic was originally made to vent about the a/b/o fics where the assholes get their way but i'll probably keep writing cause it makes me feel vindicated. Comments are more appreciated than kudos but donate what you can, I check my emails annoyingly often to look at feedback and I hope you like it :)


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